


we have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven

by shortitude



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, drabble challenge fills, may include AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-10 11:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4390271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/pseuds/shortitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it." - Richard Siken, 'Snow and Dirty Rain' </p><p>Bellamy/Raven drabbles, as prompted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ten years down the road

**Author's Note:**

> ratings may vary. sometimes alternate universe settings may happen; i'll tell you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspiration (nsfw): http://tentaclabia.tumblr.com/post/124144697167/tentaclabia-i-imagine-this-as-ten-years-later

She’s tired. She’s more tired now that she was when she was younger, though she’s only nearing the big three-oh. Half the year her hip aches and the other half her hip hurts. She’s got no prints left from how often she’s burnt her fingertips on wires and welding and hot metal. Some nights she feels like an old woman, having outlived her expiration date. Some days, she still feels young and wild and reckless enough to strip off all her clothes and the brace and jump into a pond because they’ve checked and there are no flesh-eating fish in it and there’s someone in the water to catch her. She has more patience now for people who want to learn from her, but less patience for assholery, and if she wants to be mean and bitter she will be.

 

And at nights she is warm. She’s made sure of it; ten years span into a tiny hut and a small fireplace and insulation and a bed with a mattress stuffed with feathers and hay in equal parts (he hunts a lot for those) and so many things that don’t have mine written on them, but ours. Sometimes it’s nice. No – almost always, it’s nice. 

 

When she is tired, she has less patience for his needs, and though nine years ago that would’ve been unfair and childish and selfish, now it’s something they understand. Besides, he knows how to loosen the knots in her hips and her back with his fingers, he knows how to grow plants and make poultices that will take the inflamation to a more bearable level, and he knows how to ignore her causticity so he never gets burned.

 

Some nights, she won’t be tired but she won’t be sleepy, and he’ll feel the tension in her and read it like a book. Nights like those, he rolls over and presses his mouth to her shoulder, and murmurs I want to taste you, and adds please. She’s never been too tired or impatient not to let him get his fill yet. Ten years down the road, that’s still enough.


	2. "i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for antoinette.

“What?”

He knows her better than to ask her to repeat herself, especially with declarations as big as this one, and two months down the road he’ll still be kicking himself for the gut reaction those words got out of him. But for right now, his confusion overwhelms whatever joy he could feel if the words had time to stick. 

“You heard me,” she tells him, teeth gritting together and an unlikely blush in her cheeks. She _looks_ terrified about saying it, he believes that much; he hasn’t seen her this scared in years, not since Abby looked over the damage Mountain Men did on her leg and declared that they might have to amputate it. (They never did, Raven got better by pure stubbornness.) 

Why is she terrified is what he needs to know. He hasn’t made his feelings a secret, and even though he isn’t one for words either, she knows how he feels. She knows he feels. He shows her right now, wrapping an arm around her and bringing her close to him; he lets the warmth of their skin speak for both of them, the kiss he presses to her shoulder and her forehead. “Falling’s only scary if there’s nobody there to catch you. And you came down to Earth in a pod you rebuilt yourself, knowing that there was a possibility nobody was there to catch you.”

Raven makes a drowned little sound, because being reminded of her fearlessness now isn’t what she needs. He bumps his nose against hers. “I got you.” 

He doesn’t tell her not to be terrified; sometimes he’s _still_ scared of how deep his feelings for her run, how rooted she is in his soul. She’s probably read it in him five months ago, anyway. 

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

He smiles. “You’re not supposed to feel better, you’re in love.”

“Ugh, nerd.”


	3. "come over here and make me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also for antoinette.

Clothes don’t come cheap on the ground. Actually, clothes don’t come at all; what they had in the Ark that didn’t crash and burn is all they’ve got left, so for the time being everyone gets two changes of clothes at most. (There are clothes in Mount Weather, but not many people feel like wearing those. There’s history.) 

So Bellamy gets two shirts to his name, and of course he notices when his cleanest one starts disappearing. 

It’s walking into Raven’s workshop to find her _wearing_ it that floors him. 

“What’s that doing on you?” he finally asks, when he’s got the brain to do it. (Seeing Raven wear his clothes floors him but also arouses something else.) 

She looks up from the radios she’s working on with no sign of guilt on her face. “What? It’s clean.” 

“It’s also mine.”

Raven shrugs, and Bellamy thinks he likes the way the shirt looks on her when she’s being this nonchalant. “Didn’t have your name written on it.”

For all that she’s a genius, great with her hands on anything electronic and on _him_ , she’s also an asshole. (Oh, he knows she’s doing it to get a raise out of him. It’s working.) Raven goes back to work with a smirk on her face. He considers pointing out that she’s a dick, but then he notices there’s a sharpie marker on her desk and does something better with his time. 

If you kiss the nape of her neck, Raven goes into some sort of trance, where she becomes less aware of what’s happening around her and focuses only on that kiss. So he gets away with writing on her shoulder, on the shirt, _B E L L A M Y_. When he’s done, he puts distance between them quick, so when she finally shakes the daze off, and notices, he’s got her working desk between them.

“Wow, are you five?” She looks at the sharpie still in his hand. “That’s mine.”

“Doesn’t have your _name_ written on it.”

“Give it back.”

Bellamy smirks, “Come over here and make me.”

(Later she writes her name above his dick. He really has no problem with that.)


	4. "have you lost your mind?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for **semele**

There are still things left to learn when it comes to her body. For instance, she learns that her ticklish spots have changed, in that they exist now. She’s in his lap when it happens, with him inside her and his arms around her – hands on her hips to help her move, because Bellamy knows she likes to ride even if she can’t – and her legs around his waist. It’s all slow, lazy enjoyment of each other’s company, with no clear goal in sight; it’ll come when it comes. 

Then he relocates his hands, runs them up from her ass to her sides, and his fingers accidentally press in. And she barks with laughter. 

“What was that?”

“ _Don’t_ –” she shoots back in warning, because she sees that peeked interest in his eyes, don’t think she doesn’t. Because he’s a little shit, he does it again. She slaps his shoulders but jiggles with laughter, squirming against him to pleasant results for both sides. 

Bellamy gives a little thrust with his hips, and hides his smirk in the crook of her shoulder. “That’s cute. You’re ticklish.”

“If you do it again, I’ll kill you.”

“Nah.” He does it again. Harder, more intent on making her squeal with laughter than he is to keep his dick inside her apparently, because the end result is that Raven propels herself off him with just the help of her right leg. She falls backwards onto the bed, laughing. He follows; well, tries to. She has her foot on his shoulder to push him away before he can think about it.

“Asshole,” she means it, even if it comes out with an aftermath laugh. (Okay, she doesn’t mean it.) Okay, he knows she doesn’t mean it, because he’s just distracted her efficiently by pressing a kiss to her calf, one to her knee, one further up… She closes her eyes and lets her legs fall open, and he moves upwards, mouth right above her -

And fucking tickles her again.

“Have you lost your damn _mind_?!” is a scream that probably can be heard from the other side of Camp Jaha. His laughter, the one he presses to her belly before kissing his way up to the valley of her breasts, that one is low and for her ears only; it’s nice to feel him laugh like this. 

“Nah,” is his answer again, before he tugs her up and back into his lap. His lips land on her chin, her jaw, asking forgiveness she’s too eager to give. “C’mere,” he murmurs against her neck, and with a little help and a little patience, he’s inside her again. 

She’s still reeling from the laughter forced out of her, only now when she laughs – forehead pressed to his shoulder, arms wrapped around him – it’s real and honest. “You’re such a dick.”

“I warned you I was, didn’t I?” Yeah. _Not the kind of guy who cares._ Sure he did. She rolls her eyes; rolls her hips and gets a moan right out of him. He nudges her head away from his shoulder with small nuzzles, his cheek against her cheek, his lips against her cheek, and finally - his lips against her lips. “Laughter suits you,” he murmurs against the corner of her mouth, and it means _sorry if I took that too far._

Raven thinks, _I must’ve lost my damn mind if I think that’s cute._

It’s likely true.


	5. "you did all this for me?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (harry potter au)

His eighteenth birthday catches him studying for his N.E.W.T.S., and if that’s not unusual enough, then the fact that it’s Raven who descends the stairs from the Girls’ dormitories with her cloak in her hand and her wand tucked behind her ear is even worse; of all people in Gryffindor, he’d expect Reyes to be the one staying up late to study just so she can ace all her exams and continue to dominate Hogwarts as its self-proclaimed genius. But that’s not within her plans tonight, he finds out.

“Come on, loser, you’re taking a break,” is Raven’s special way of being friendly and saying _happy birthday_. She tugs him up from the Common Room floor before he can protest, and they’re out the door before he can say _What if we get caught._

They don’t get caught. On their way up the moving staircases, Raven turns around to grin at him from one step above him, and in hushed tones explains, “– bribed Griffin and Wells to not patrol this end of the castle until one o’clock.” She would get the Head Boy and Girl on her side, of course; for a moment, he is infinitely glad that O isn’t in Gryffindor because the idea of the sort of trouble Raven could get his sister into is terrifying. 

Not that different Houses ever stopped her, given the number of times she got detention with Monty Green. 

“Where are we going?”

“A friend of mine from Ravenclaw told me the shortcut to this place, it’s all about spelling the staircases.” That’s not an explanation. Bellamy guesses it’s about to be A Surprise, so he sighs and gets ready for it. 

When they finally reach their destination, third floor, big locked door, Raven digs into the inner pocket of her cloak and gives him a bone. A big bone. “Happy birthday.” 

“You did all this for me? Wow, you shouldn’t have,” he dryly retorts. Raven snorts, and with a look that spells trouble, casts an _alohamora_ on the door, pulling him inside. 

One of the three heads lifts up at the smell of the bone, and Bellamy - in his wonder - almost drops it. “I knew you’d make that face,” she whispers right behind him, her tone excited. 

“Cerberus. He’s not a legend.” Every now and then, urban legends circulate the halls of Hogwarts like wildfire, but the existence of the three-headed dog has never been verified. Until now. Until right now, as he’s standing there speechless in front of it.

“What, no facts about the three-headed dog that guarded Hades’ place?” Her elbow nudges his side, and he almost starts. “Throw them the bone.” 

He throws them the bone. Watches with exhilaration how the dog heads wrestle playfully for it before one finally snatches it up, and then freezes when the other two look at them. “Got anymore of those, Reyes?” 

“Err.” 

“We should go.”

The dog starts to growl, and Raven’s hand is in the back of his cloak, tugging him towards the door. “Yep, we should definitely go, let’s go.”


	6. "you're the only one i trust to do this"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (mad max au)

Her eyes are what grabs his attention, really; the rawness in them as she pins him down with that intense stare, it’s like looking in a mirror. (If he knew what mirrors were. He hasn’t seen his reflection in six months, what does Bellamy Blake even look like anymore?) 

“Are you listening?” she demands, while outside the desert curves into a treacherous passage through the mountains. Next to him, one of Immortan John’s brides ( _what’s her name, Bell, give her a name_ , demands the small voice in his head; the one that sounds like O still, to this very day) stiffles a sob and covers her swollen belly. (Splendid, her name is Splendid.) 

Imperator snaps her fingers in front of his eyes, impatient but not ungentle. He grunts, lets her know he heard her. He’s listening. He is a human being, capable of attention and intelligence, of making his own decisions; he’s not a blood bag. He is… _What’s my name?_

“I’m going to teach you the sequence. If the deal goes to hell, I’ll need you to drive them out of here, to safety,” Imperator says, fierce; fierce, but the fear in her eyes are a mirror of his own. (What does he even look like anymore?) 

She shows him the sequence, and he memorizes it. Then they all duck, all of them except for Raven, who drives into the belly of the beast like she’s done it every single day of her life. (Maybe she has. That, too, is like looking in a mirror.)

When they stop, he stays hidden with the brides, and repeats the sequence in his head, over and over, hopes it won’t be necessary, because Raven - she’s more capable, she’s more _whole_ right now than he is, and he is – what is he? 

( _What’s your name?_ ) 

When she finally climbs back into the rig and drives them out of there, he releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and thanks a god he hadn’t remembered believing in in a long, long time. Then, the desert spreads on.


	7. "i almost lost you" (raven)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one hurts.

This is how she says it: a punch to his jaw, a raw snappish “ _Idiot_ ”, and the fury in her eyes that betray her. Whoever thought Raven Reyes after Mount Weather had grown incapable of softness was clearly not looking deep enough.

This is _why_ she says it:

They are sent on a scouting mission, five of them, for somewhere new to set up Camp Jaha; it’s him, his sister and Lincoln, and Raven and Monty. They’re not the only team that’s been sent out there, but they’re the one that’s travelled the furthest away from their original Camp. It’s a hard couple of weeks: walking, camping, huddling together for warmth, walking, keeping quiet when Raven flinches because her hip is killing her because _she’ll_ be the murderous one if they try to offer her special treatment. 

They’re looking for somewhere where Grounders don’t have claim over. Anything to keep a fragile peace stable. (This is why Lincoln is here, he knows where those places are.) 

The rain has left the terrain slippery, unstable, and inevitably wherever they go, danger follows. So Raven falls. Raven _almost_ falls. There’s a cliff, there’s a landslide, and one second he’s looking back to check on the noise; the next, his heart’s in his stomach and he lunges after her and catches on at the last second. 

Getting Raven up is hard when she can’t _climb_. He almost falls with her, and when she whispers “Just let me fall,” for the fourth time, he wants to shake so hard her teeth rattle. It’s not like her to give up; yes, they’re all tired and miserable, and yes he knows she’d rather go _after_ the Grounders and raze them to the ground than run away from them, but it’s no excuse for being this martyr. So he holds on tighter, while O and Lincoln and Monty tie a rope around him. 

Ironically, it’s not the first time he’s done this. Climbed down the edge of a mountain to rescue a girl. It _is_ the first time he’s felt the absolute refusal to let her go grow roots inside him. Raven can’t climb, so he pushes her up instead. On the last push, he slips, and though the rope breaks his fall, her scream rivals O’s in desperation. When they all get him up, he is safe in his sister’s embrace, but over Octavia’s shoulder he can see the storm inside Raven grow. 

Fear of loss is a tragic thing when you’ve lost someone before; watching Raven now is like looking at himself in a mirror. 

So he takes the punch, and lets her rage for a second, but plants his hands on her shoulders and shakes her into silence. “If you _ever_ give up on me like that again,” he tells her, just her, though the others hear them, “I’ll throw you over the edge myself.”


	8. "i almost lost you" (bellamy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> season 2 finale how most of us wanted it to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tw for torture**

There’s still blood in her mouth when she passes out from the pain; by then, the drill’s dug in so deep that she can’t tell if the blood she’s tasting is from the guard whose ear she ripped out or her own. She figures out it’s her own, later, when she comes to, because her tongue and the inside of her cheeks hurt like a bitch.

Coming to, however, wasn’t something she thought she’d ever do again. 

When she opens her eyes, what she sees are trees, and the blue sky through the gaps in the leaves. It feels like a dream, now; freedom starts to feel like a dream, and that’s where it gets problematic. When she realizes that she’s forgotten the taste of sunlight on her skin, of laughter deep in her belly, of _one fucking moment of rest_. All she can recall is the taste of blood in her mouth; she’s been biting her own tongue for weeks now, hasn’t she? 

The arms that hold her are familiar. They’ve held her before, more than once. It’s the sight of his face, his haunted profile - his gaze straight ahead at the rest of their people - that brings the first sob out of her. He tenses up and softens his grip on her in a fraction of a second, looking down to make sure he’s not hurting her. (She would tell him that she hasn’t been carried like this by anyone since she took a bullet for him, but the inside of her mouth hurts.) 

“We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” is what he offers, instead of what his eyes and his grip on her say. She nods, and rests her head against his shoulder. Raven Reyes, a hurricane wearing skin, lets herself be carried. 

Ahead of them, Jasper walks with his head down, aimlessly, while the others huddle together for support and comfort. She frowns, and looks up at Bellamy. 

“We’re the only ones who made it.” 

This part she wasn’t conscious to watch unfold, but she has a few guesses. It doesn’t matter; it hurts to talk or breathe, it hurts to pretend like she cares that people died so they could survive, it all just _hurts_. She’ll go back to being a decent human being tomorrow. 

“Jasper,” she manages to get out, her voice raspy enough that it makes Bellamy pause in his step. She adamantly doesn’t look at the concern in his eyes while Jasper approaches. She just pulls his goggles off her arm and hands them to him, her little smile a sad attempt for I thought you’d want these back. He gives her a grim nod, and takes his property back, and catches up with the rest of the group. 

Above her head, she can practically feel Bellamy’s turmoil growing heads, becoming the monster that will inevitably consume him whole. 

“I would’ve gone back and blown them all up anyway,” she croaks out, and rests her head back on his shoulder. _So you see, out of the two of us, which one’s the real monster?_

She falls asleep with the feel of his lips brushing her hairline.


	9. we are the young we are the reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> s2 ep9 au, verily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for **buries** , who said: _i want someone to write me a bellamy/raven fic where bellamy’s the one in trouble and raven’s the one who says fuck the rule’s shit’s just about to get real if you don’t let me help him._

It’s hardly been one hour, and she wants to punch Clarke all over again; this time around, it wouldn’t be out of vengeance, but because she’s doing what Raven hasn’t allowed herself to do since Finn took his last breath: give up. 

She watches Abby and Clarke discussing the matters in a private corner of the eating hall, over Octavia’s shoulder, while paying half attention to what she’s saying. It’s not that this sort of subterfuge is beneath Bellamy – it wouldn’t be, he can be quite the strategist; she knows this by now – it’s just that he has no solid reason to be attempting murder on the Commander. The fact that Lexa seems to believe that it’s because he had some grudge against the Grounders for all of the people he’s lost isn’t far-fetched, it’s just that way she implied that he’d try to poison the person responsible for Raven Reyes’ heartbreak that got her. It really shows, if Lexa knows this, how far her eyes can go; someone must’ve seen him catch her when she fell, someone must’ve taken _note_ of it. And they’re using it now.

After all, come on, Raven has more reasons to murder the bitch that Bellamy would, and screw Indra for implying he was just acting as the hand of the executioner in this. Screw everyone. 

“They’ve readied the tree,” comes from Lincoln, who has appeared out of nowhere at Octavia’s side. He has his hand on her shoulder for support, and the youngest Blake looks to Raven as if she’s ready to go to war. As if she expects Raven to follow. Well – she’s not wrong. 

“Fuck this,” Raven growls, and turns around to stomp her way to where the Griffin women are speaking. Correction, it looks like Clarke is doing her very best impression of an emotionless marble statue. Again, it makes Raven want to punch her. “What the _hell_ are you doing?” she hisses, practically in the girl’s face. “Are you going to let _him_ die, too?” If Clarke looks like she wants to get a word in edgewise, Raven’s not letting her. Not even Abby’s attempt to keep her away from her poor, fragile daughter is helping, because she shrugs her arm away. “No, better yet, why don’t you go and maybe get a kiss in before you _mercy kill_ him –“

“Raven, that’s enough,” Abby interferes, her voice cold and stern, but her eyes desperate. _She doesn’t know what desperate is like_ , thinks Raven. Desperation is realizing that in the span of a week, you could lose two people, and the one girl who swore she gave a damn and all she wanted was to save everyone is giving up in front of your eyes. That’s desperate. 

“Raven,” comes from Octavia, and _that’s_ desperation right there, because she’s watching her big brother be tied up to a pole. It’s like watching a reflection of herself, a few days ago, begging Clarke – begging anyone – to fix it, and get her Finn back. 

Wordlessly, she starts walking. The closer she gets to the pole, to the Grounders forming a line there like a bunch of perverted vengeance-thirsty psychos, the more clearly she can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want to die; of course he doesn’t, he wants to watch his people come back safe. He’s _necessary_ , Raven thinks; and she… she has nobody else left now. 

So she walks up to the Commander, and – at this point, she blanks out, instinct taking over. (Later, Octavia tells her she managed to punch Indra in the jaw before three Grounders subdued her, screaming about how she’d blow them all up for good if they didn’t let him go and investigate their shit better.) 

\---

When they tie her up to the pole right next to Bellamy, her mouth bloodied from a punch that still hurts, she actually grins. “How’s it hanging, shooter?” 

\---  
Later, Octavia tells her she managed to punch Indra in the jaw, and Raven laughs bitterly even though it hurts like a bitch, what with the open wounds that Abby’s cleaning with alcohol and little else. 

It’s still Octavia who mutters, “At least the two of you there seemed to motivate Clarke to get her head out of her ass,” even though Clarke’s mother is _right there_. The contrite look on Abby’s face is all it takes for Raven to decide that, if she’s going to grow attached to anyone else after this, it’ll probably be Octavia Blake. 

The thought gets interrupted by another flash of stinging pain, at which she hisses and squirms. “Okay, enough, _enough_ \-- leave it, I’ll be fine, it’s just one cut.” She points towards Bellamy, who’s lying down on the table with his hand in his sister’s hand, who hasn’t stopped looking at her since she went crazy on the Grounders. “Fix him, he’s worse.” 

Okay, she’ll admit – begrudgingly, because it feels like some sort of betrayal already – maybe that ‘anyone else’ category can stretch to fit one more person in it.


	10. history repeats itself (not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The universe might be in constant expansion, but time just loves running in parallels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for **la-petite-fadette** ; it took me some time but here you have it.

History repeats itself. That’s the lesson Raven has taken out of life, as short as her life has been up to now at least. History has a way of repeating itself, because humans are fucking morons, so it wouldn’t be far-fetched at all to start drawing comparisons. The universe might be in constant expansion, but time just  _loves_  running in parallels. 

So, the Council and the Chancellor make a vow that never again will things be like on the Ark. And then they proceed to tie the Chancellor up and whip her in public for an offense, and just screw the idea of founding a system of laws and justice that’s fresh and new. 

The Delinquents are called kids when it’s convenient (when they’re not being sent to the ground to die; when they’re not being told where to find guns to not die; when they’re not being exploited for the stuff in their bones; when they’re being nice and sweet and obedient), but they revert back to juvenile troublemakers when it’s not (when they come back scarred, and scared, and knowing they can fight back and take a stand, yes even against the Council that ruined their lives before). 

History repeats itself, and Raven is scared of it. 

Twice, she thought that she mattered to Abby Griffin, felt the kindness in the woman’s heart directed at her, was subject to the sort of affection you’d expect from a mother, a good mother, not Raven’s mother oh no. And then twice, when Clarke walked into the picture, it became clear that Raven had never been more than a pawn. 

History repeats itself a lot, when it revolves around Clarke Griffin, and now she fears it will happen again. 

It’s why she shows up in Bellamy’s tent two months after the escape from Mount Weather, a backpack slung over her shoulders, filled with guns. (History might want to try for an encore, but she’s not hanging back to get slapped for providing for her friends again.) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bellamy asks, and doesn’t look at her like he wants to say  _you can’t walk well, you’ll slow us down_ , but more like he can’t believe she just dumped four magazines stocked with bullets on his bed. 

“You’re not going alone,” she mutters, and pretends like this isn’t a big deal. (It is. History repeats itself: she goes after the boy who goes after the perfect other girl.) “I’ve had it up to  _here_  with guys going on solitary missions to bring Clarke back.” 

He grows quiet, and that’s good. (In a parallel world, he would’ve told her she was wrong, and no Raven I have to do this alone, it’s too dangerous. But he’s not Finn. That was the point; that was the beauty of him, he never was like Finn.)

“I’m fine,” she clarifies, just before he can protest, and shoves the magazines into his bag before zipping it up closed. “I can walk without tiring and I won’t slow us down, but you’re not going alone.”

“What about the Camp?”

“What about it?”

“You’re the best mechanic--”

“So,” she cuts him off, voice loud and chest full of bravado, and no she’s not flushed under the way he values her. “They’ll have to learn to deal with their shit with their second-best mechanic.” 

They go. Bellamy is quiet, and he doesn’t thump his fists against his chest trying to pretend that he can do this on his own, and that’s why she likes him. She has had it with men who believe they know everything, they have the answer to everything. She’s had it with being pushed to the background, forced to watch the story repeat itself over and over.

They are a few miles away from Camp Jaha, when Raven realizes this is it. Officially, the first time she actually snuck out of the camp, left everyone behind, ran off. She stares at the back of Bellamy’s head and thinks,  _you know, it makes sense_. 

“Why did you agree to this?” she finally gathers the courage to ask, her voice steady. “You didn’t seem like a big fan of Clarke for the last two months, so why go after her?” 

She thinks, for the long time he is quiet, that he won’t answer her. That he’ll pretend he hasn’t heard her. “It was this, or continue to watch as the Chancellor allows her worry and grief to turn her into the sort of person who sends victims back into the Mountain to look for scraps.”

Ah, yes. From a theoretical point of view, it makes sense; there is so much to exploit from Mount Weather. From an emotional point of view, Raven would rather eat shards than look at those drills again, and she was only there a couple of hours. Those who had to live with the fear for weeks, they shouldn’t be asked or forced to go back at all. 

So he thinks having Clarke back will make Abby reconsider.  _What happens if we get Clarke back, and she’s worse than her mother at fixing things?_  History repeats itself there, doesn’t it? 

“Why did you follow?” he asks, interrupting her train of thought. 

Raven doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t. He  _knows_ , so what’s the point? And yet. “The last time someone I cared about went after Clarke, he turned into a mass-murderer and ended up with a knife in his gut.” 

And there it is. The one parallel she’s so adamantly against making. Thrown out between them, recklessly. 

He stops walking, and turns around to face her, one hand on her wrist. “I’m not Finn.” 

“We established that.”  _Did that help? Did that help? Did it help, Raven?_  “But still.” 

“Still, what?”

She lets out a frustrated sound, bristles. “History tends to repeat itself around me.” 

He looks at her funny. Like she just said the dumbest thing possible. Maybe because she has just implied that he’ll go beserk over the agony of losing Clarke, when she’s heard him huff with frustration everytime she’s been mentioned for two months now. But Raven expects it by now, you know? Being second best - that’s also part of the parallels now.

“No, it doesn’t.” 

He draws a circle against the inside of her wrist, and her pulse skitters and she wants to lean into it, somehow. Raven Reyes, latching onto the first person willing to treat her with some modicum of decency, and getting bitten in the ass for it time and again. 

She sobers up, before it’s too late. “Yeah, because I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid if I have your back,” she snaps out, and then shrugs. “Or make sure we  _do_ , whatever comes first.” 

What comes first, and she doesn’t expect and but she doesn’t jump away, is Bellamy leaning down and brushing his lips against hers. So soft, she can almost think she imagined it. She’s left frozen, standing there like a fish out of water. 

“No,” he tries again, patiently, “it doesn’t.” He lets go of her hand and pokes her forehead with his fingers. “Get those dumb metaphors out of your smart head, Raven.” 

 _Oh_. 

“Come on,” he says, and pretends like he hasn’t just laid his soul out bare for her. “We’ve got a long road to cover today.” 

 _Oh_. 

She amends it: history doesn’t repeat itself, but Bellamy does. 


End file.
